by Danni Roan
If he got to Casper and this whole thing was a set up, he didn’t need to worry about getting home for the round up this year. He’d be a memory to some and a sorrow to others.
God I hope I’m not doing the wrong thing here. These men have caused devastation and death everywhere they’ve been. I can only do what I believe is right and trust you for the rest.
Chapter 10
“Have you been to Casper before,” Darcy asked as the car bounced over rough roads leading to their destination, checking the rearview mirror to see if anyone followed. “It’s not much of a place, but there’s old money in the town.”
Blake grinned, he’d been to Casper many times over the years and knew well what the place was like. Cattle might not be king any more in the wilds of Wyoming, but between cattle, sheep, and wheat production the state held its own in produce. The old families, the early families who had come to Wyoming and had been able to hold onto their homesteads were still able to prosper on the open plains.
“I’ve been here a time or two,” Blake replied, glancing at Darcy who was busy slipping a cigarette into a long black holder. “It’s a busy town. Nothing like Cheyenne, but there’s plenty to be had if you know where to look.”
Darcy shot him a droll look, but said nothing as she lit the cigarette and blew smoke out the partially open window.
They drove on in silence for several more miles as sage brush, and scrub oak whizzed by.
“Pierce promised he’d take me to California,” Darcy’s voice was distant but clear as she gazed out the window. “Said he’d make me a movie star, and I could live in a big house by the sea. I’ve always wanted to see the ocean.”
Blake stole a glance at the young woman next to him in the heavy coat, but didn’t ask any questions. He knew that Darcy was working up to something, he just wasn’t sure what it might be.
“I came from nothing,” the dark-haired beauty continued. “My folks were dirt farmers with not a penny to their name. They were good people, but had no ambition.”
As she grew silent once more Blake wondered where exactly Darcy had come from. She couldn’t have been from the city, if her parents were farmers. How had she met the man who now possessed her very soul? “Where’d you come from?”
“Out there.” Darcy waved her cigarette holder toward the prairie. “I suppose my brothers are still trying to make a go of that mud pit they call a home.”
Blake could hear bitterness in her voice, but from where she had come from or where she had landed, he couldn’t tell.
“I was never content. I don’t know how they could stand to be out there in the middle of nowhere with nothing but back breaking work and nothing to show for it. I hated that life.” Darcy’s words hung there for a long time as the tires of the shiny car kicked up dust in a steady stream.
The young woman had obviously been unhappy in her home, but she didn’t seem any happier now. There were always people who couldn’t be content where they were, but was that what was driving Darcy to make this daring leap and trust Blake.
Only time would tell what the woman’s final objective was, but Blake’s heart hurt for her. To Pierce, Darcy was a possession, a pretty bauble to be flashed in front of guests. The big man dangled her like an accessory, strutting her out to impress other men with his prowess. It wasn’t any kind of life for a woman, yet she had fallen into it willingly.
“You must have hated that place,” Blake finally spoke wondering if she would reply.
Darcy shrugged negligently. “I did at the time. I hated the work, the dust, the emptiness. I hated never knowing if the crop would survive or if we’d spend a frozen winter starving to death. I guess it was the uncertainty more than anything.”
“I don’t think life offers any guarantees.” Blake looked toward her, surprised to find her looking back.
“You don’t look like you had any trouble growin’ up. Have you ever even missed a meal? When’s the last time you had to stuff newspaper into the cracks in your room to try to keep the snow out? Or lived on onion soup for two weeks because there’s nothing else to eat?”
Blake turned his eyes back toward the open road feeling her words in his heart. He had grown up the grandson of a wealthy rancher. The child of parents who knew the value of what they had and weren’t afraid to teach their son how to work for what he wanted. He had never known a day when there wasn’t enough to fill your belly, or fill your days.
“No, I can’t say I have,” he finally spoke. “I’ve been fortunate, and I’m thankful for it. For now though, I’d like to make a difference in this world. I’d like to help insure that wicked men don’t take advantage of those who are less fortunate than they are.”
Darcy’s harsh grunt surprised him and he glanced that way again. “A real do-gooder. Just what the world needs.”
Blake didn’t want to argue with the woman who had offered to help him. He could tell that she was done talking about her past and possibly her future. He hoped that if he could bring down Pierce and the big gang that the world would be a marginally safer place. Perhaps with men like Pierce behind bars, young women like Darcy could find honest work in cities like Cheyenne.
The young lawman’s mind drifted to his cousin Mary and Bar, running the mission where they ministered to the lost men of this age. Men who had given their part in the Great War but hadn’t been able to escape the darkness that they had survived. Someone had to reach out to the lost, to shine a light in the darkness that would lead men to hope.
The world was uncertain at the best of times but if your hope was founded on the solid rock, you had no need of fear, desperation, or lost hope. Blake was only one small cog in the machine of justice. He prayed that he could make some difference in the life of people like Darcy.
***
The lights of Casper filled the windscreen as Blake trundled down the low rise toward the city.
Darcy had fallen asleep in the passenger seat as darkness fell, and Blake didn’t bother to wake her as they entered the gateway to the Platte River.
It had been a long time since he had been in Casper and his lips twitched with happier memories.
Over the years he had heard the story of how his grandfather, Joshua, had come to the place in a wagon train headed to Oregon only to break off from the party at the Platte River bridge and forge his own path.
It spoke to the man’s character that several from the caravan had decided to go with him to start a new life on the wide expanse of the Wyoming prairie.
Turning the fancy car down a familiar alley, Blake headed to a boarding house he knew of and the promise of a hot meal and a warm bed.
Now that they were here the task of finding Pierce and his gang would weigh heavily on his shoulders, but even more so on Darcy’s. If something went wrong, if they failed to bring the attempted bank robbery to a peaceful end, there was no telling what might happen to the young woman curled up on the seat next to him.
“Darcy,” Blake called softly as he pulled up to the small house in the heart of the city. “Darcy, we’re here.”
Darcy sat up rubbing the sleep from her eyes. A full moon cast her face in shadow, but her pale skin glowed softly in the white light. “Where are we?” she asked, pulling the thick coat tighter around her. “Is this Casper?”
“We’re at a small hostel in Casper.” Blake opened his door. “We’ll be safe here for a time. I know the woman who runs the place, and she’s got a good heart and a better cook.”
Darcy smiled, unfolding her legs from the seat and reaching for the door as Blake stood stretching muscles that had too long been confined to the automobile.
“I could eat,” Darcy said, covering a yawn with a delicate hand, “but it is a good idea to stop somewhere you’re known?”
“Mrs. Bicks doesn’t ask questions,” Blake said, meeting her dark eyes. “We’ll get a good night’s sleep and go from there.”
“Do you have a plan?” Darcy tipped her head, her eyes shaded.
“I’ve got a
n idea. We can talk about it when we get inside.”
Darcy studied Blake for a long moment before nodding and getting out of the car. “I hope you know what you’re doing?” she said, stepping around the car and taking his arm as he led her up the stairs to the old log home.
“So do I,” Blake admitted with a wicked grin. “Just follow my lead,” he added as he pulled the door open and ushered her inside, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.
***
“I can’t believe you signed us in as Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” Darcy hissed, as they sat at a table a half an hour later. “Everyone will be suspicious. I don’t think that old lady believed you for a minute, even if she is as deaf as a post.”
Blake smiled at the young woman across from him reaching out and taking her hand. “If we make people believe it, what do they have to doubt?” He stroked her hand softly hoping others would buy the premise that they were newlyweds traveling to the coast.
“This had better not be a rouse to get me into bed,” Darcy grumbled spooning up a bite of hearty stew. “At least the food is good,” she added. “I’m trusting you with everything, so don’t let me down.” Her eyes bore into him and Blake swallowed hard.
“I promise, I have no nefarious designs on your person.”
Darcy huffed, then spluttered as a laugh caught her by surprise. “Seriously? Who uses the word nefarious?” She chuckled again, putting her spoon down and reaching for her glass of cider catching Blake’s cheerful smirk. For a moment it seemed that they were the only two people in the room and that the laughter they shared washed away years of hardship, struggle, and sin.
“I guess, I do,” Blake finally managed as he dried his eyes. Other patrons were looking at them and grinning as if they were all in on the joke, but Blake knew it was that they thought two young people were starting out on a new life together with joy and laughter to guide their way.
Darcy wiped a tiny splash of cider from her lips and groaned. “I wish they had something stronger,” she hissed, pulling them both back down to reality. “I’m not used to this clean living bit.”
“You’re just tired,” Blake said, patting her hand. “You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
Darcy raised one perfectly sculpted dark brow, her eyes skeptical. “I’d sleep better with a stiff drink, but I guess I’ll have to make do.” Lifting her glass the slim girl drank the glass dry then pushed herself to her feet. “I think I’m ready to turn in,” she said a little louder than necessary then smiled when Blake turned bright red.
A moment later he was guiding her down a dark corridor and into a quaint room with a comfortable looking bed covered in a bright quilt.
“Don’t worry,” Blake said, as Darcy swiveled to look at him. “I’ll take the chair.”
Darcy studied him for a moment then nodded, slipping out of the silky dress she wore and headed to the bed in nothing but her brassier and knickers.
Blake spun on his heel, averting his eyes as she slipped beneath the blankets with a wicked laugh.
“Good night Turnip,” Darcy drawled. “Sleep well.”
Blake put out the light and pulled his boots off before dropping into the fat arm chair in the corner of the room and pulling his coat over his body. “Good night,” he whispered a benediction to the day.
Chapter 11
The morning crept into Casper like a thief, hidden in shadow and darkness. A cold drizzle filled the town with a dank, chill that permeated even the hearts of those who had to make their way through it for work or other purposes.
“Lovely, morning.” Darcy shot a harsh look at Blake as she wrapped her heavy fur around her shoulders and tromped out into the street. “Where to now?”
Blake stood on the front porch of the small house and buttoned his long coat against the cold rain. “The bank?”
“To do what?” Darcy said. “Do you plan to march in there and demand the gang leaves?” She snorted a derisive sound that hit Blake in the gut. “We need to go to the hide out. See what’s going on, and then see if we can get the police involved. If they know what’s going to happen they can arrest the whole lot of them.” The young woman lifted a hand, tracing the still vivid bruise along her cheek bone.
“Do you know where they could be?”
“I have an idea. I’ve heard talk of it before.”
Blake tugged his hat down over his brow and glanced down at Darcy. “Lead on,” he drawled, nervousness tugging at his middle.
Darcy stepped into the street and headed toward the east side of town, her steps confident even as her heels squelched in the mud. Hurrying to catch up Blake offered his arm letting the woman lean on him as they made their way through the dank town.
The further the pair went the more misgivings Blake had about the whole endeavor. The town turned from dank to dark as the lanes narrowed and the businesses spoke of a less desirable bent. The door to the speakeasy caught both Blake and Darcy by surprise, as they traversed a narrow passage between the unpainted buildings. A tiny beam of light spilled from a grate covered window illuminating a patch of paving in a sickly orange glow.
“I think this is it,” the young woman said, looking at Blake with luminous eyes. “Should I knock?”She turned examining the heavy age blackened door.
Blake touched the pistol under his coat and nodded. They had come this far it was time to find out more about the plan and see if they could bring at least some of the devastation of this age to an end. It was a risk arriving unannounced to this haven of vice, but it was worth that risk.
Slowly Blake nodded, realizing it wasn’t just his life on the line, he would find out the gang’s plans then report to the police. It would be one more win on the side of right.
Darcy lifted a shaking hand and rapped on the door, jumping slightly as the tiny window sprang open with a click.
“Password,” a rough voice rasped.
Darcy flashed a nervous look to Blake then turned back to the window. “Chipped Ice,” she drawled.
“Where you from?” the disembodied voice echoed into the alley.
“Cheyenne,” Blake interrupted.
“I don’t know you.” The window clicked shut again and Darcy sagged against the wall. “Now what?” she asked, pulling a cigarette from a pocket in her coat.
Blake shook his head watching as the woman placed the fag in the slim black holder and lit it.
“I’m not sure,” he said, turning to look back down the street.
Darcy, placed the holder in her mouth then pushed off the soggy wall. Lifting a hand she rapped on the door once more.
“I already told you I don’t know you,” the voice echoed.
“You may not know me,” Darcy snapped, “but I’m looking for Pierce. You tell him his Darcy dear is here, and she misses him.” The young woman’s eyes glinted, a hard gleam of determination sparking.
“Get lost lady,”
The laugh that trickled from Darcy’s throat made Blake shiver as he saw her shift from the girl he had spent the last two days with to the mad-man’s moll in an instance.
“I don’t know who you are bud,” Darcy growled leaning into the little window, eyes narrowed, “but if you don’t tell your boss I’m here, you’ll regret it. I’m cold, I’m tired, and I’m hungry. If Pierce finds out you left me standing in this alley to catch my death, I’m not sure how long your usefulness will last.” A cruel smile touched her painted lips, “now go,” she finished on a snarl.
“You tried,” Blake said, taking Darcy’s arm and turning her toward the mouth of the alley as the little window snapped shut once more. “We’ll have to find another way.”
Darcy shrugged pulling her coat tight once more. “I can’t believe we came all this way for nothing.” She half turned staring at the door as if she could open it by sheer willpower.
They had only taken two steps down the street when the door opened with a heavy click and bright light spilled onto the shimmering cobble stones.
“
You can come in,” a short man with a long beard barked stepping away from the entrance.
Darcy squeezed Blake’s hand, touching his eyes with a glance as she quickly released him stepping through the door, transformed in an instant into the fun loving gang boss bimbo she always seemed.
“Where’s my Piercy Wiercy?” Darcy pouted looking around the room, but taking in every aspect of the space around her. “I need a drink,” she added walking toward the wide bar that took up the longest part of the room. “I’ve missed my man,” she added on a giggle as a rumpled looking Pierce stepped through a door at the end of the room.
